Pipe Dreams
by kendralikesgreen
Summary: "You and me, it's a fantasy. A pipe dream that is so out of reach it's barely even visible. I don't see it, so how can you?" Scorpius/Rose. Oneshot. Rated M for language.


Here's a little Scorpius/Rose fic I've been working on.  
It's definitely not perfect, so if you have suggestions or a critique let me know! Reviews are wonderful and really help me with writing!  
Everything recognizable belongs to J.K. Rowling.  
Read&Review Please&Thanks  
.:x:.

"_But we're not welcome here  
Cause they don't know who we are"_

The sun was shining and sending its little rays across the clear, tranquil waters of the pond. It was a perfect summer day in June, a perfect day to spend outside. There was not a cloud in sight and the sky was such a brilliant blue it was almost hard to look at. It was the sort of afternoon that sent little kids outside to blow bubbles in while their parents would watch from their relaxing spots on a picnic blanket. This was the kind of day poetry was written about, the kind of day people wished and hoped for.

Rose Weasley, on the other hand, was angry at the weather.

She was absolutely livid at the sun for shining and making it so easy for Scorpius Malfoy to use the excuse "it was just such a beautiful day" at her. If it had been raining or windy maybe he wouldn't have walked over to her house and then her father wouldn't have answered the door. If her father wouldn't have answered the door and became so furious she would not have had to explain how the young wizard knew where she lived. And if she would not have had to explain that they would not be standing on the back porch staring so angrily at each other.

"What were you thinking?" She snapped at him.

He smiled at her obvious frustration which just caused her aggravation to grow even further. She wanted to slap him for being so forward, so insubordinately irritating.

"I cannot believe you would have the nerve to show up here like this. The fact that you would purposely disregard my request to keep my family out of this, out of _us_, just shows that I was right to end things," she said in a shaky, angry voice.

Rose clenched her fists at her sides and bit down on her lip. She could feel the urge to cry out of anger welling up inside of her like a live volcano. She was so on edge when he was near, so testy when she saw him. She was so unbelievably unbalanced it was embarrassing. A small hiss escaped past her lips when she realized her bite had been so hard it drew blood.

No one made her feel the way Scorpius Malfoy did. When he kissed her she felt like she was underwater, like she was weightless and surrounded by calm. Everything went quiet when he held her; she was so at peace in his arms. But at the same time he was completely infuriating. He disagreed with his family's stance on bloodlines and did not hold power and wealth in the same regard as the rest of the Malfoy clan. But he still had the urge to test people and to push their buttons. He would still always consider himself to be little bit higher up then the rest, for whatever reason. Hell, he didn't even need a reason.

The worst thing about Scorpius Malfoy though, was his utter refusal to listen to anyone other than himself. He exuded so much confidence it wasn't attractive it was off putting. Whenever he would speak to people you could hear the smugness in his voice, it always seemed as though he was looking down at others. Every word out of his mouth sounded like a scoff.

To this day Rose had only found herself to be the exception, and barely that.

"I'm not even going to bother asking while you're here, Scorpius," she began, feeling as though she was talking to a child who was misbehaving, not her ex-boyfriend. "I don't need to hear some overly planned out explanation of why you've stopped by or why you find such pleasure in making my life more difficult than it needs to be.

"You just need to stop. Stop with the games; stop treating me like your favorite toy. Most of all though, Scorpius Malfoy, you need to stop pretending. Stop pretending that you know me so incredibly well and that you know what'll I'll do or say next. And stop pretending that we're still a we, because we are not."

With that she walked off of the porch and towards her old tree house in the middle of the field. She didn't know if he was following behind her, though she wanted to believe she didn't care.

But then she felt a cold hand on her shoulder and despite her mind telling her to brush it aside and to keep going she stopped dead in her tracks, frozen at the sensation of his touch.

Scorpius always had had cold hands. Poor circulation, he'd always told her. Rose had suspected that there was something deeper, something rooted in the Malfoy past that he didn't want to discuss with her. Even though she knew they would feel like ice it always caught her off guard how their chill would bite at her skin.

She could still remember the first time he'd touched her, really, _really_ touched her.

"_And who's to say we won't burn it out…"_

It had been at the beginning of the school year, in the early autumn. She'd been wandering around the halls searching for Professor Longbottom to ask a question about a particularly exotic plant she'd encountered on her families trip to Madagascar when she'd heard the sweet chords of Schubert. She'd always grown up listening to classical muggle composers. Her mother had always insisted, claiming it had something to do with opening up brain channels. Rose would recognize the _Ave Maria_ anywhere.

She'd found her way into a back classroom she had never come across before. Inside were rows of instruments; cellos, violas, violins, and harps. But what had caught her attention was the boy in the middle of the room. She knew who he was instantly by the bright, shining blonde hair.

Scorpius was conducting the string quartet with magic. Smooth sliver streams came floating out of his wand almost forming a picture of staff music. The instruments strummed along together as if being controlled by the best players in the world; the sound they produced was some of the most stunning music Rose had ever heard.

"Wow…" She hadn't even realized the murmur had come out.

Scorpius jumped and almost dropped his wand he'd been so startled. The orchestra stopped playing and the bows clacked to the ground instantly when he stopped concentrating.

"Jesus Weasley, are you trying to kill me?"

She shook her head and blushed, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt, I just…I really like Shubert."

She had felt like the biggest nerd in all of Hogwarts by that statement, but Scorpius did not scoff or make fun of her for knowing the muggle composer or for admiring him.

"You play beautifully."

Scorpius snorted with laughter and strolled over to her.

"It was nothing, just some charm work that I've been perfecting over the summer holiday."

She froze when he was next to her. It wasn't like they didn't know each other; they'd practically grown up together at school. Scorpius had been at the top of the class right alongside her for their entire seven years at Hogwarts; it had always infuriated her that someone could try so little and still get top marks, that he could slack off and get the same grade as her when she was constantly working at being the best. Recently though, he hadn't been just competition.

He'd become intriguing.

Over the summer after their fifth year Scorpius had grown up. He no longer was skinny and lanky, but had filled out and his muscles were defined. He was taller; it made his presence more imposing. He was no longer concerned about making his hair look good he simply wore it tousled and easy.

It those three months, Scorpius had become a man.

The school year after that summer had been more interesting for Rose Weasley. She hadn't just looked at Scorpius and seen a roadblock to being valedictorian, she saw someone she wanted to know. Scorpius made her blush, which was mortifying. Once during a Quidditch match she'd actually caught herself checking him out, luckily she'd still been able to block the Quaffle that was whizzing towards her.

He'd flirted back, which didn't make it any easier to act like the prim and proper girl she came off as. She was the definition of perfect and she intended to keep it that way. She was not going to let a school girl crush get in the way of her goals or her reputation.

But now he was playing Schubert, and standing next to her with that glimmer of mischief in his eyes looking at her like she was the fix to his craving.

"Lock the door."

And Rose couldn't help herself.

In almost a second he was on her, pinning her to the now locked door with his body. She gasped as his fingers brushed the hem of her shirt; his fingers were like little icicles. They almost burned they were so cold, but she found the sensation oddly thrilling. It was almost if each fingertip left a little mark behind. They tickled her skin and made her heartbeat race. His tongue was working around hers in such an expert way she was not concerned with cold fingers.

Their relationship had carried on that way for months. They were always hidden behind locked doors or the shadows of the Forbidden Forest when they would meet up. It was like an unspoken rule between the two of them; never in daylight, never be seen. Scorpius was always leading her to places that would have normally terrified her, like deep into the Forest where they would kiss in the shadows of twisting branches and centaurs. Sometimes he would take her up on the roof of the owlry, always reminding her not to look down and clinging to her hand when she was afraid they would fall.

He was dangerous.

He was addicting.

And, as she eventually decided, he was toxic.

"_And who's to say, we're not good enough…"_

"I brought you some ice."

Rose tossed the ice pack into his hands as she quietly closed the door to the empty classroom in the dungeon. Scorpius wouldn't look at her and he set the pack next to him on a chair.

"Madam Pomfry fixed it already."

His tone was cold, but that didn't surprise her. What surprised her was his reaction to all of this, she couldn't understand why he was acting so injured, so insulted that Albus hadn't welcomed him with open arms.

After four months of sneaking around and keeping quiet, someone had caught them making out in the Restricted Section of the library after hours. And of all people to do so it had to be her beloved cousin. Her cousin had found them, the secret was out. Albus had reacted exactly how Rose would have expected; by socking Scorpius in the face.

"Stay the fuck away from her you foul animal!" He'd bellowed as he forcefully dragged Rose away by the arm, leaving Scorpius lying on the floor clutching his broken nose. "If I ever catch you _looking_ at her again I'll hex you until you beg for you putrid mother, you fucking swine!"

Albus had hauled Rose out of the castle and down to the empty cabin near the forest. The gamekeeper had used to live there, but after marrying his giantess wife he was often away traveling. Albus generally retreated to the hut as sort of a sanctuary, but now was using it as an interrogation room for his baby cousin.

He was shaking as he began to pace the room, she could almost feel the rage blistering from his body. Rose huddled herself into an oversized chair and waited for the inevitable reprimand that was about to come.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Rose shook her head and stared at the knotty, wooden floors of the hut. "I don't know…"

"THAT'S NOT A BLOODY ANSWER!"

She recoiled and shrank back at Albus' booming yell. But then she felt her cheeks get hot and her own anger flair up.

"You don't get to yell at me, Albus! You are not my father; you don't get to tell me what to do!" She was on her feet now, clenching her fists and daring her cousin with flashing brown eyes to try shouting at her again.

Albus crossed his arms and returned the stare down. It was incredible how much he looked like his grandfather. The same messy hair was atop his head, the same lanky body was his, and the same hot headed temper coursed through his veins.

"No, I'm not. But I am your cousin, so I _do _get to protect you. And I shouldn't have to remind you who he is. Or where he comes from. I don't care about being forgiving or progressive and letting the past be the past. Fuck it.

"His father wanted to kill mine, and yours, Rose. Do you know the things he used to say to your mother, to do to them? That's his son, that's his flesh and blood and the apple does not fall far from the tree. Do you remember the names he used to call you? You cannot be with _that_. Either you end it or I'll get your father involved and trust me, he will end it for you."

With that Albus stormed out. She knew he loved her and just wanted to protect her, still she couldn't help feeling like the ultimatum was just another challenge. But then she remembered little eleven-year-old Rose bawling her eyes out because of the blonde haired boy calling her a mudblood. He probably didn't know how terrible the word was, but she did. She remembered how he would make fun of her for struggling with potions, or how he always seemed to be looking for a reason to make her doubt herself.

But then she was snapped back to the present. She had been ignoring her friends for him, sneaking off to be with him and leaving them behind. This yelling match with her cousin was the first time she'd spoken to a family member in weeks.

She could feel herself starting to change, starting to be like him. She could feel herself starting to look down at those who struggled in class, feel herself recoiling from people. And it made her sick to her stomach.

She was fighting with Albus, which had _never_ happened before. Yes, they'd had squabbles over little things, but he was more than a cousin, he was her best-friend. Family was more important to Rose Weasley than anyone could possibly understand, and a good kisser was not going to barge in and destroy that.

"I'm ending this," she said to him in the classroom after Albus had punched him out.

He chuckled slightly. She frowned, unsure of what was funny about that.

"Why are you laughing? I'm breaking up with you, Scorpius, I'm not going to sneak around with you anymore. It's done. What's so funny about that?"

He still wouldn't look at her. "It's predictable, that's all. You're so wrapped up in what happened twenty bloody years ago that you aren't even willing to move forward."

"I love my family, I would never hurt them," her voice was low and shaky; she knew he was trying to push her buttons and to get her riled up.

And then his eyes were staring right into hers. Those icy grey eyes were looking straight into her; she was so terrified at the thought of being translucent around him. She didn't want him to know about how she felt torn because if he did, he'd win.

"Well I love my family too," he said in an annoyingly even tone. "But I'm mature enough to know that they aren't perfect, that they don't always know what's best."

His stare was unmoving, unchanged. She was extremely uncomfortable by it but she kept staring back.

"See, the difference between you and me, Rose, is that I'm willing to take a chance. At the first sign of trouble you're bolting. I've never been afraid of this, of _us_. As you'll recall, it was you who started the whole locked doors, all of the cloak and dagger routines. If you want me to say I love you, I would. I just want to be with you, but apparently that's not enough, apparently I have to change who I am. And even you aren't worth that, Rose Weasley."

And that's when it hit her. He wasn't injured that Albus didn't accept him, he was hurting because_ she_ didn't.

"_Stand up boy, I shine so bright when you're around…"_

She shrugged the cold hand off of her shoulder covered her face in her hands. The barrier didn't muffle her frustrated scream as easily as she had hoped.

"Why are you doing this? Why can't you just leave me alone?"

She heard him sigh and she sank into the tall grass, sitting with her legs crossed and her face still cupped in her palms.

"I chose my family; I chose to not be with you. Accept it and move on, showing up here doesn't make it any easier on me to do the same. It's not fair of you to do this to me, it's not fair," she whispered audibly enough so she hoped he got the message.

"Rose…"

"No," she cut him off. "You and me, it's a fantasy. A pipe dream that is so out of reach it's barely even fucking visible. I don't see it, so how can you?"

She heard him sit down next to her so she squeezed her eyes shut. She knew she was acting irrationally and immaturely but she didn't care. She did not want to see him, she wanted to move on and to make her family happy.

"I see it because it's there, Rose."

His voice was so smooth, so satiny it made her heart flutter. She'd forgotten how melodic his voice was; it reminded her of the orchestrations she adored so much.

"Rose, I know your family doesn't approve and hell, I would probably feel the same way if I were in their shoes. I wouldn't want my precious, beautiful daughter gallivanting off with a guy like me, I get that. But when I'm with you I feel different, I feel better. I feel like you bring out the part of me that was hiding behind my family's tainted name, and I don't want to give up on that, I don't want to give up on moving forward just because your cousin threw a punch and your family still holds a grudge. I want to make them see me, not a Malfoy. I want to be with you, and I know that's not enough, so I'm going to fight for you, and hopefully that's going to be enough of a start. You say it's a pipe dream? Well it's a dream I'm going to hold onto."

She bit the inside of her lip to stop the smile from growing on her face. There was nothing she could say to top his words, nothing she could say to argue with them. And really, there was nothing she wanted to say.

So Rose slipped her hand into his and just held it tightly. There would be time for words later. For now, they would just be.

That was a dream in and of itself.


End file.
